A Stalk Of Wheat
by LauraCynthia
Summary: Kirk spaces out during a meeting with McCoy and thinks he's losing his mind. One-shot. Please review!


It began with a stalk of wheat.

Kirk had been absorbed in a report on a scouting mission on Juris which had, surprisingly, gone well. Oh, sure, Lieutenant Sepulveda had a minor rash on her left hand, and Ensign Vi'os had wandered off to find a place to nap and thusly initiated a three hour search.

But all in all, pretty good.

He had almost completed his read-through when his door buzzed. Not looking up, he responded with, "Come in. And don't forget to shut the door."

He smirked and held a finger up. "One more paragraph and I'll be with you."

When he finished, he was suddenly aware of the shadow hanging over him.

"Ahh! What are you trying to do, kill me?" He dropped his tablet and clutched his chest in mock terror.

"I should say not. There's this little thing called the Hippocratic Oath, you see….and it's about the _only_ thing preventing me, most days." Bones pulled out a chair and sat down.

Kirk shoved the tablet out of the way. A light tap turned off the screen. He looked McCoy in the eyes. "All right. You have my full attention." But already his mind was pulling his vision to a spot over his left shoulder….

"That'd be refreshing." Bones leaned forward, his chin propped on his hand. "Anyhow, I wanted your opinion on our upcoming excursion to Meyoras….."

And that's when he noticed it.

_Was that there before?_ Kirk squinted, blinked, rubbed his eyes, then looked again.

Sure enough….

A single stalk of wheat protruded from between the doctor's lips.

…"we detected trace amounts of duplinium exopasside that I think will be…"

Kirk just sat there, staring. _Does he even know it's there?_ McCoy seemed to be chewing on it, rolling it from the middle of his mouth to the corner.

"…..if it's pure enough, I can begin to synthesize a suspension…"

A single suspender stretched across his body, from his left shoulder to his right side. _Okay, that's not regulation. I _know_ that wasn't there before!_ McCoy stood up, and began to pace the floor.

"….now, getting on to your concerns about Hornby. I know he's a bit of a firecracker at times, but the boy came back from a failing grade to 5th in his class, and that's no mean feat, Jim…."

Kirk's gaze shifted downward. McCoy's feet were _bare_. _Where the heck did his shoes go? _McCoy continued to pace back and forth, occasionally twanging the suspender strap idly with his thumb.

"….but I still believe Spock is wrong. And if he's not, I'll eat my hat…"

By this time, a ratty straw hat was perched, slightly askew, atop McCoy's head. Kirk couldn't take his eyes off him. _This is insane….he's a doctor, not a quick change artist._ Kirk put his head in his hands, breathing heavily. _No, no, no….when I look up, everything will be-_

He raised his head, slowly. His jaw dropped. McCoy's blue uniform shirt had been replaced by a plaid one, and his black pants by holey, ragged blue jeans that barely stayed up. Worse, the chair he had vacated earlier had become a rickety old rocking chair. Kirk groaned. McCoy seemed not to notice that the difference _was_ different as he settled himself into the chair. He gave a slight push off and set it to rocking.

Kirk shut his eyes tightly, then opened them again. _No. Don't look. Listen._ But instead of the one-sided conversation they were having earlier, all he heard as McCoy's mouth moved was a relentless "Hyuk,hyuk, hyuk…." The straw teetered on the edge of his lips as he rocked back and forth.

_What's going on? I can't – I- no, this is wrong,I-_

"JIM!"

Kirk jumped. McCoy was bent over his chair, grabbing him by the shoulders. He looked absolutely petrified.

But perfectly normal.

Kirk let out a shaky sigh of relief. "You're – you're _you _again."

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm me. Hold still." The lines eased slightly from his face as he attached a monitor to Kirk's forehead. Kirk didn't fight it this time. "Hmm….everything's elevated, but that could be 'cuz of me." _You have no idea._ He stood up straight. "What happened to you, anyway? One minute you were listening to me and the next you're light years away in some kinda waking nightmare…..scared me half to death…"

_Should I tell him?_ The question rattled around in Kirk's mind. _Nah….he'd probably go off in a huff. "Well, I'm happy to know what you _REALLY_ think of me, Jim….that hurts." Last thing we need is Doctor Pout Face. And I'd never hear the end of it….._

"You know what? Never mind. I just - zoned out. Sorry…. you know, 'cause I said I wouldn't…and all." He put on his best innocent-as- a-babe-in-arms face.

McCoy didn't look convinced. He folded his arms across his chest and pinned Jim with a look before directing his gaze to the ceiling with a "heaven help me" look. "Well, it'll have to do, I suppose." He turned and headed for the door. "I'll assume you heard nothing I just said and we'll pick up this discussion later. Give your head a chance to clear." He looked over his shoulder. "You heard _that_, right?"

"Loud and clear, Bones. See ya then." The door swished open and shut. Kirk lay back in his chair, drained for a few seconds, eyes shut. Then, with a groan, he forced himself to stand up and head over to a cupboard in the corner. He unlocked the door and drew out a small bottle of olive-colored liquid and a shot glass. Trembling slightly, he poured himself some and threw it back. Purely medicinal.

_It's just stress. Nothing more. You've been working too hard and harbouring hidden prejudices. That's all. Let it go. Just let it go._

He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths that eventually evened out. _That's it_. _Better now._ A smile crossed his lips. He looked down at the shot glass in his hand.

And dropped it with a crash.

Amidst the shards of glass on the floor lay a few splattered droplets of drink.

And a stalk of wheat.


End file.
